


...And I am in his rain

by xipypuck



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xipypuck/pseuds/xipypuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I wrote this a while ago and I wasn't so sure about posting it but I'm bored and I thought why the hell not? So if you read it, thank you! I hope it doesn't suck! :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	...And I am in his rain

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this a while ago and I wasn't so sure about posting it but I'm bored and I thought why the hell not? So if you read it, thank you! I hope it doesn't suck! :)

The cigarettes’ smoke makes swirls in the air, floating above their heads, flying into the dark sky and disappearing in the night. It’s chilly, and he’s only in a shirt, but he isn’t cold. He isn’t feeling much about anything right now.

"Do you… you know, regret it, sometimes?" Spencer’s voice is calm, almost a whisper in his back yard. Ryan shrugs.

"Who cares? It doesn’t matter anymore."

"It does. For him. It _does_ matter."

Ryan takes a long drag, feeling it burning his lungs until his eyes water, letting it out along with a sigh. He looks at the butt of his cigarette.

"It changes nothing, you know?"

Spencer nods, understanding. He’s smoking his own cigarette, watching the moon and trying to remember how to read Ryan words and know what he’s _not_ saying.

"I never told you what you had to do and I’m not about to start now, you know. But…maybe it would be good for the both of you to talk, dude. It’s been years. Stubborness does not suit you well…. Never did."

Ryan laughs and flips him off, staying quiet for a while. It felt good talking to Spence, like being home, he has missed that. Him. Spencer had shown up in his doorstep out of the blue, surprising him. It had been a little awkward at first, but after the first minutes of shock they were talking like old friends, like always had been. It felt right having his best friend with him, almost like all this year apart never happened.

They smoke in silence for a while, with the only sound of the crickets around them. Ryan knew sooner or later they would talk about it. About _him_. He’s dying to ask how is him, how is _she_ , if he talks about Ryan sometimes, if he’s sad when he does. But he doesn’t. He lost the right to even know about him, that’s how it worked.

"It was hard, you know? Keep going without you guys… it was hard," said Spencer suddenly, looking at the floor. "And I know you probably think it is a shitty thing to say since you were the ones who left but… I just feel like you should know. It wasn’t easy for me. And it definitely wasn’t easy for him."

Ryan wants to say that it _is_ a shitty thing to say when, you know, he was the one who lost his band, his best friends and his—him. And he lost himself in the process too. But he doesn’t say anything. He’s tired of fighting with this thing for so long, he’s tired of being angry.

"You seem pretty set on talking about him, Spence, you’re not subtle about it, you know?"

"I wasn’t trying to," he answers, smiling when Ryan looks at him with a smile of his own.

"What do you want me to say, man? All is over. There’s no use in thinking about it now."

Spencer stares at him like he’s trying to read his mind or something. Ryan doesn’t think he’d like what he’d see if he actually could do it.

"He doesn’t want to play Northern anymore," he blurts, making Ryan look at him sharply. "It’s… he probably would kill me if he knew I told you this but, he cried every time. Every fucking time, Ry. And he can’t anymore."

Ryan looks at him for a long time, studying his best friend’s features, how he lost weight and his eyes seem more deep, sorrow. Ryan easily forgets that he’s not the only one with scars after this story. They cut deep, and part of him is proud of knowing Brendon can’t play that song anymore. The other part just wants him to surrender and call. When he talks the words are heavy in his tongue, thick.

"It’s not about stubborness," he confesses, looking at the sky above him. He feels Spencer’s gaze on him waiting, translating. "It’s not my place anymore."

"He would forgive you. Eventually," Spence stops himself, considering his next words. "You said those things, man, and he was a mess after all the shit went down. But… yeah. He will forgive you. Sometimes I think he already has."

Ryan shallows the lump in his throat, putting his arms around his legs and looking at Spencer. He remembers the way it all exploded, the things he said to them, to him. How lost he felt and how raw he was after all the shouting. He did regret it, even before it was out of his mouth. He remembers every word he spat, every hurtful knife. He never denied he was harsh, and cruel, and unfair. But they were not fair with him either. But what he remember the most is the look in Brendon’s eyes, his hurt, his disappointment. He has replayed the scene in his head over and over again, his jaw set, his big and moon-like eyes open wide, his mouth closed in a sad frown. At the end he just looked like he didn’t even know Ryan anymore, like the man in front of him wasn’t the one he shared everything with.

_Sometimes I wish you’d use your fists instead of your mouth. Because I can heal a bruise, but your words cut so deep I can’t get to the wounds. That doesn’t make you better. It actually makes you worse._

Those were the last words Brendon ever spoke to him. He remembered them too. He has them written down in a notebook, where he keeps all the things he should have said and never did.

"Yeah. Maybe that’s the problem…" Because he doesn’t want forgiveness. It was past the time for that. Spencer seems to get it then, because he laughs and shakes his head, sighing in the cold night and hugging himself.

"You always had a weird way to punish yourself, man…" he murmurs into the air.

"It’s better off this way," whispers Ryan. And it is.

It’s been too many years. Too many days and too much changes. He doesn’t get to turn back time. He doesn’t fit in Brendon’s life anymore and he’s done being unfair with him. Spencer does not talk anymore and he’s glad. He remembers a time, in days like this one, when he would go to Brendon and he would lay with him in bed, sometimes talking and sometimes just holding each other. That was enough to make him forget about himself for awhile.

But not anymore.

Now instead he just watches the night, search the moon and pray for the sun to always shine as he did when he was the one sharing his life.


End file.
